Holding On, Letting Go
by kattafre6611
Summary: Oneshot. Set right where 3#10 left us. He thinks he's just happy. She can't think at all. But nothing stays the same. Delena


Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Just borrowed a human and a (ridiculously hot) vampire...

A/N: This little thing is set right after 3#10.

I loved the kiss, I thought it was well played and it felt...right.

I just think the writers won't stop teasing us, by not mentioning it anymore or some crap like that. Sure as hell they won't let happen what I'd like to see.

So I wrote it.

A HUGE thanks to Kymberleii, my spontanous and wonderful beta :-)! If you find any weirdnesses, don't blame her - it's all on me; I probably didn't take her advice then (yes, I'm stubborn, too...).

Title from 'Holding On And Letting Go' by Ross Copperman

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><p><strong>.<br>**

**Holding on, letting go**

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><p><strong>.<br>**

She blinks.

Twice.

Then she realizes she's alone on the porch.

He's really gone.

She turns her head toward the direction he went, down the stairs, heading to his car. She merely catches a glimpse of his hair while he gets in, and the next moment she hears the ignition and the Camaro speeds away.

She takes a tentative half step, but she finds that she can't really move adequately. Her legs feel stiff, as if they haven't been used for too long. She almost expects to hear a creaking sound coming from her knees.

So she stays where he left her.

She tries to move her arm, to reach her fingers up to her lips. The lips that just a minute ago were covered with his. But her hand seems to weigh a ton. It hovers in front of her chest for a while, then she gives up and lets it slump down again, dangling at her side, useless.

The next thing she becomes aware of is that she's trembling. Actually she's shaking.

And to be honest – she has no idea why. Her brain completely refuses to work, to reveal what just happened.

Except, of course, she knows.

She draws in a deep breath, and even her breath seems to shake.

Once again she breathes in and out deeply, and this time it helps her to calm down enough to will her brain into obedience.

And with that, it hits her.

He kissed her.

Her eyes go wide.

_Damon_ kissed her.

And she let him.

No, not exactly…

She…kissed him back.

She staggers slightly, and when she notices that her knees begin to buckle, she uses the porch railing to steady herself as she steps on shaky legs to the bench and sinks down on it.

They _kissed_!

She thinks back to that moment, and her heart instantly begins beating faster again.

And she still feels utterly overwhelmed.

She should have known that this would happen one day.

To be honest - she always knew.

She knows how he feels about her, and the tension between them increases every single day. It's almost tangible.

Sometimes she feels the need to tear a gap in this tension to be able to breathe.

And yet…it never feels suffocating. Not in a bad way anyways.

Recently it became her armor against the evil that is Klaus. It's her coat against the coldness that Stefan became; her comforter to find some sound sleep at night and her blanket to snuggle in, giving her the strength she needs to face the world outside.

Although she seeks comfort in his unwavering love for her, she still denies her own feelings for him.

The day when Caroline tried to force her to admit her feelings she nearly gave in. It was tempting to finally say the truth out loud, knowing that it might enable her to deal with it.

But in the end she couldn't do it. Maybe because Caroline was so judgmental that day, so unlike the Caroline Elena was used to.

Maybe she just wasn't ready to acknowledge it.

Maybe it was simply the wrong day.

It was the day Damon killed his friend for the second time, only because Ric pissed him off.

It was the day Damon was willing to kill Caroline's dad. (Although she hated his behavior, a tiny part of her is touched, because she knows that he did what he did partly because of the torture Bill had committed on his daughter, and Damon cares about Caroline, even though he would never admit it.)

It was the day he behaved as a vampire, far more than he had done for months, and she couldn't handle that. Not when she lost Stefan because he already went that path, although of course she knows that it's not the same.

Yeah, maybe it _was_ just the wrong day.

But maybe, maybe she was just too afraid to hear it.

So she still went on denying it.

Until tonight.

She lets out a sigh, leans back and closes her eyes. Instantly his image shows up in her mind.

She's used to it. It's always like that. She doesn't remember when it started, but now it's always like that; the moment she closes her eyes he shows up. Usually smirking. But lately…lately he's often wearing this genuine smile that's reserved just for her.

Now his image is different. She can't quite read his facial expression, but she recognizes the small smile he gave her after the kiss, right before he left her. And in his eyes she sees something else: hope.

Scarcely visible, but it's there.

What is she supposed to do now?

And then, all of a sudden, she discerns a pull, a tugging deep within her.

She opens her eyes and sits up straight. The pull is still there. And she knows she can't resist.

She doesn't know what to say to him, but she has to see him. Just see him. Maybe…feel him.

She still can't think clearly, but even if she could, she's sure it wouldn't help her the slightest. She just doesn't know what to do.

She only knows that everything in her screams, because he's not here.

She can't bear the thought of not being with him any longer. Not now. Not ever.

She rises to her feet and tries her legs' ability to carry her weight again, and when she finds she can walk again, she decides she can drive, too.

She closes her eyes briefly, takes in another deep breath, and then she goes to grab her car keys.

.

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><p>.<p>

In the beginning when he sits in his car, he's just happy.

He's not been that happy for ages.

Literally, because he thinks he wasn't that happy since he's a vampire.

Now he is.

Mostly because he finally dared to act.

Finally he threw all caution to the wind and did what he wishes for since…he doesn't even remember since when. Since way too long ago anyways.

Countless times he was so close, but every single time he was too scared to shatter the fragile part of this connection between them. To destroy what makes it worth living his life like he does now, what makes it worth feeling again. He couldn't stand the thought of losing her, and he was simply too afraid to push her away as he did in the past.

So he always held back.

But not tonight.

He smiles.

He knows that she feels something for him. He sees it whenever their gazes meet. He senses it with every nerve whenever he's near her. He can almost smell it when she goes past him. He feels it when they touch, accidentally or deliberately, it's like little explosions where skin meets skin. She feels something for him, and he knows that, whatever it is, it grows stronger day by day.

But he also knows that she denies it.

She can't let go. Even though it was her who said they should. He knows she tries, but still, it hurts. Maybe one day she will be able to look forward again. But not yet.

And it seems he can't either.

He sighs deeply (he doesn't know that she's doing the same thing in precisely the same moment) and pulls into the driveway to the boarding house, and he feels the happiness fading. He feels it trickling out of his heart, drop by drop. He remains where he is, stares out of the windshield toward the house that is looming large and dark in front of him. No lights are shining behind the windows; nobody's home.

He snorts. Of course not. He lives there alone now.

Although he feels a little embarrassed about how pathetic it is, he wishes fiercely that someone would be waiting for him inside.

Resolutely he pushes himself up and gets out of the car. He enters the house and switches on more lights than he really needs. When he realizes what he's doing, he rolls his eyes in annoyance and switches most of the lights off again.

He pours himself bourbon in a tumbler and then takes a swig before adding some wood to the fireplace and poking the logs until the fire crackles again. Then he settles into his favorite armchair; and lounging in front of the fireplace, tumbler in hand, his head leaning against the back of the chair, he allows himself to savor the memory of what happened tonight.

It was wrong. In so many ways.

And yet, he's glad that he did it.

She didn't reject him.

_Elena_ didn't reject him. Better yet, she kissed him back.

No one can ever take this memory away from him, never. The image of it, the feeling of her lips on his is burned in his mind, every single second of it.

A slight smile lights up his face.

Until the guilt settles in, that is.

The smile fades quickly as he thinks about Stefan for the first time after that kiss. He effectively managed to shove this thought into the very back of his mind, but now it pushes its way back into his consciousness. It's what he never wanted to deal with; now he has to.

A part of himself begins yelling at him, and he makes out something like 'how could you' and 'you owe him', 'he saved your life' and then, to fortify the last statement, 'twice'.

He cringes.

But then, there is the other part of him. It's calm and relaxed, and he winces as he realizes that it's a part of the old Damon. He shudders, because honestly, he prefers to listen to _that_ part. That part just smirks, and he hears it saying 'suck it up'.

He knocks back his bourbon.

"Screw you", he mutters, and he doesn't know which part he's talking to.

He thinks probably both.

It's then that he hears the sound of tires on the gravel outside.

.

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><p>.<p>

She sits in her car and doesn't move.

She looks straight to the boarding house, but she can't bring herself to go in.

The pull is still there, tugging on her even stronger than before. So strong that it aches. But she can't give in yet.

Different feelings are at war inside of her. It feels like different persons, throwing stones or knifes or whatever against each other.

It feels horrible, and she can't stop it.

Her mind flashes back to the dead witches' mansion and to Stefan. She still can't believe what he said to her earlier. He didn't care about Jeremy. Not at all.

Cold and detached. That's what he was.

Humanity switched off.

Gone.

Except that she thought she saw a flicker of humanity when she mentioned her brother…

She just wasn't sure.

She knows that he's not compelled any more. He has no more excuses…

And then Damon told her that his brother screwed them over to save him yet again. And she finds that she _believes_ it. It's the only way Stefan's action makes any sense.

And more importantly, she could see that Damon believed it, too.

But then…doesn't that mean that Stefan _can_ feel something? Is it even possible to feel just what he wants to feel and shut the other feelings out? She doesn't think so.

Then again…no matter if his switch is flipped or not, it's _his_ decision now not to care about anything but his own revenge.

Anything but revenge and Damon.

He cares about his brother (and sure as hell she's grateful that he saved him), but not the slightest about hers.

And it's then that she finally feels shatter whatever remaining hope she had been clinging onto with him.

_Then we'll let him go._ She meant it when she said it. Only in that moment she didn't expect the extent of hurt it causes to let go of him. She's fighting every day. She still thinks that she needs to do that, more than ever.

Her gaze drifts to the house again. She sees the lights behind some of its windows, inviting her to come inside.

She can nearly _feel_ him inside, the vampire who, once again, was too honest to take advantage of her stirred up emotions tonight. Who decided to give her a flicker of hope instead of taking what he was so desperately longing for, actively diminishing his own chances of getting what he wants in the process. And who, in the end, let go of her, although she didn't reject him.

She feels the pull getting stronger, growing more painful every minute she refuses to indulge it. She takes a deep breath, bracing herself and gets out of the car.

But then…she knows, if she takes this step, finally follows through with it, there will be no turning back.

And although a part of her, she thinks it's maybe what pulls her, is done pretending that her love for Stefan might be still strong enough, she still can't go in. She can't let go. Not yet.

Not yet.

It just hurts too much.

She thinks that it might break her apart.

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><p>.<p>

He finds her behind her car. She's sitting on the ground, curled up in a ball, leaning against the fender, unmoving.

At first he thinks she's hurting, that she has gotten injured somewhere. He's so used of her being in mortal danger that his protectiveness takes over and he blurs toward her. But then she lifts her gaze for a second, and he _knows_ she's hurting. Just not physically.

A hot wave of guilt washes over him. Suddenly he's not so sure anymore that he's glad about the kiss.

He thinks that maybe it was worth the guilt he's feeling. But not the pain he obviously caused her to feel.

He stands still and watches her.

She looks so…small. So frail.

He knows she's anything but frail, but still. Even Elena has a breaking point.

And he can see that she's on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

And that's the moment when for the first time he mentally kicks himself for kissing her. Not because of the kiss, of course not. But why the hell has he chosen a day like this for it? A day when so many bad things happened to her? Klaus, Stefan, Alaric's death and the menace of his not properly working ring, Jer chopping a hybrid's head off on their porch, Jer compelled to leave…what the hell was he thinking?

A low moan escapes his throat.

He simply wasn't. As usual.

How will he ever restore what he has broken?

He takes a tentative step toward her. Just one, and he's already fighting the urge to backpedal at the waves of agony emanating off of her. It's his fault that she's feeling like this, and for a moment he's tempted to just…run away.

But he stays, because another feeling is stronger.

The need to save her. Even if it's him he needs to save her from.

So he steps closer.

And then he sees it. Two small drops falling from her face on the knees she's embracing.

She cries.

He has so rarely seen her crying, and never inward like this. Silently.

Oh God.

What did he do?

With a few steps he closes the distance between them, crouching down beside her. Every cell inside of his body wants to reach out for her, to try and comfort her and give her back what he has taken.

But he doesn't touch her. He can't.

Instead words are stumbling out of his mouth. "I'm sorry" he says. He can almost feel her tensing.

When she lifts her head for a moment, he sees her staring at him. His worried face crumbles.

He apologized. But obviously it's not enough. It never is with her. Despite the compassion and the _guilt_ he's feeling, a flash of anger crosses his mind, but he fends it off.

She's right. It _is_ not enough. He sighs.

"Elena…" He trails off. Is he really supposed to regret kissing her? He doesn't. Not really. He thinks back to how happy he was earlier, even if only for a while. And he really, _really_ doesn't want to miss the memory.

But he regrets the pain he has caused her.

He reaches up and finally touches her. He cups her face with one hand for a few seconds, and then he lays his hand on hers. "I shouldn't have done it" he eventually whispers.

Her head jerks up, and now she glares at him. He reels back at the killing glance she's tossing him, tearing his hand away from her as if she's about to burn him.

"What?" she spats out, and suddenly he's not sure anymore that she's only angry. Her voice sounds rather…hurt. Still, the daggers she's shooting at him tell a different story.

What the hell…?

This girl. When ever he thinks he understands her, she manages to surprise him.

Her eyes soften somewhat, but her voice still holds a hint of a menace. "You're not telling me that you regret it, do you?"

"No" he blurts out without thinking twice. He doesn't. "No" he repeats firmly.

Relieved.

She nods. "Good" she says quietly.

He swallows when he sees new tears rising up in her eyes. He hesitates, but he has to know it now. He needs to. "Do you?" he asks and holds his breath.

She doesn't answer him for a long while. He follows the tears tracing down her cheeks with his eyes. Then he can't bear it anymore to watch her crying, and he closes his eyes. He lets the breath he was holding out with a low sigh. She still doesn't answer, and he feels cold inside. Has he really been happy earlier, just half an hour ago? It already seems like it's a lifetime ago.

He opens his eyes again when he feels hers on him. He finds her different than before; she gazes at him with something in her eyes…he can't quite put his finger on what it is, but it makes every single one of his nerves tingle.

Her voice turning very soft suddenly, he detects a small smile on her face, a smile that shines brightly in her eyes for a moment. "Couldn't you _feel_ that I won't regret this?" She asks.

He almost falls apart at what she's saying. It's so much more than he ever could hope for. She reaches for his hand, bringing him down to her, and he lets her. He sits beside her, and their fingers intertwine.

He lifts his other hand to wipe away the tears. "Then why…" he starts, but she cuts him off with a glance. She stares at him, and then she shakes her head lightly and sighs.

"I guess it's just…too much." She holds his gaze when she speaks; she wants to make sure, that she doesn't mean _him_ to be too much.

Yet, he deflects. "I know, and I'm sorry. It won't happen again" he croaks.

She watches him warily, and then something happens he was not prepared for. A smile flickers over her face and a mischievous glint steals its way in her eyes. And then she lets go of his hand, cradles his face in both her hands, leans in and kisses him. Tenderly, fiercely.

At first he's taken aback, but only for a split second. Then he responds, twining his arms around her, holding her tight. Finally holding her in his arms.

And he thinks that 'happy' doesn't even begin to cover it.

After a while she breaks the kiss and smiles at him. "Good thing you didn't promise, though…"

He stares at her, and then a bright smile settles on his face and in his eyes. A smile she never has seen before there, and she mirrors it instantly.

And while they kiss again, they both know it won't be easy. But they have a chance to make it work.

Together.

.

the end

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><p>Hope you liked it...<p>

Writers live for feedback, so don't hesitate to push the review-button and tell me what you think...:-)


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